


Like Last Time?

by Anonymous



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Cardassian Contradiction, First Time, Lizard-lovin, M/M, Past Torture, and its inevitable appearance in the bedroom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2019-01-01 01:08:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12145263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: For round one of the Lizard-Lovin' exchange on tumblr, filling the prompt: "Parmak/Garak – Parmak discovers Garak’s eyes can do a whole lot more for him than break him. Or maybe they still do that, but in an altogether more pleasurable way."





	Like Last Time?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Myrida](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myrida/gifts).



“Are you _sure_?  Don’t you remember last time?”

“ _Elim,_ ” Parmak shook his head, in disappointment more than denial. “Of course I remember.”

‘Last time’ was sorted neatly in Parmak’s memory beside ‘this time’ as it unfolded.  The similarities were inevitable, as neither man had any desire to change their preferences.  Parmak never expected Garak to form genuine, reciprocal feelings for him, anyway, or he would have been much more careful with his methods of demonstrating affection.  But no, the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced he had done exactly what Garak needed, even if it was only going for walks with him and making sure he found enough to eat.  That _was_ what Garak needed, and if having his mere needs met was attractive to him… Parmak shook his head.

So there would be little to no deviation from ‘last time’ despite the fact it heightened to Garak lying on his back, _begging_ , sifting Parmak’s silvery hair through his fingers, and holding his gaze for much too long _without speaking_.  And then Parmak froze, leaning close against Garak for much too long _without moving_.  Garak had gone to the shed and slept there alone - Parmak guessed he curled up on the floor, from the way he carried himself and brushed dirt from his sleeves the next morning - while Parmak sat motionless in the guest-room, pondering all he had ever done wrong, finding it was a larger amount than he felt comfortable with.  At least now Parmak had the memory of ‘last time’ replaying incessantly in his head, having slotted itself kindly in place of his memory of his interrogation, which was what he would have seen otherwise.

But these unpleasant recollections, so long as they were handled in conversation and emotional suppression rather than action, were not actually enough to postpone the progression of Cardassian intimacy.  If anything, Garak thought they improved it, but he always enjoyed things more when he was made to suffer and try to talk his way out of them, first.  Bringing Parmak to bed with him was no exception.

He undid the lacing on the side panels of his own shirt, removed it, and set it down neatly and gently on the nightstand; Parmak’s was off already, hanging from the hook on the door.

“You don’t _need_ to be looking at me, you know,” Garak continued.

“Don’t be ridiculous for the mere sake of the argument, Elim.”

“I am simply saying I wouldn’t mind.”

Parmak tightened his hold on Garak’s upper arms, but did not confine him otherwise, nor did he shove him down against the mattress just yet.

“I _almost_ wish you weren’t saying anything at all,” Parmak sighed against Garak’s neck, making him shudder but not fall silent.

“Please,” Garak said flatly, because it made Parmak try harder, “there are many methods you could use to ensure my cooperation, in that regard.”

“Elim, I mean it.  And I have no desire to harm you.”

Garak sighed and pulled himself closer, until his chest was flush against Parmak’s, grating their chulas together and absolutely delighting in the sting it provided, throwing back his head.  As Parmak reluctantly slid his tongue - without even a flash of his teeth - down Garak’s neck, Garak steadied himself by holding Parmak’s shoulders.  He would prefer to hold the back of his head or stroke his hair, but he refused to let himself tug it; Parmak did not view pain the same way he did.   _What doctor would, really?_ Garak thought, _Not any as good as Parmak._

He let Parmak rub his arms, up and down, warming his scales and continuously increasing their sensitivity, before cooling them and taking in their scent with his tongue.  It was as harmful as he knew how to be, before leaning down until he could set Garak gently and safely on the mattress.  Parmak even took the time to arrange a pillow for him to rest his head on.   _The man is something forged outside of the Union entirely_ , thought Garak.  

“Do you think we are in _any_ way compatible with one another?” Garak mused.

This was precisely the reason Parmak needed him to keep _quiet_ , even if he didn’t really enjoy the silence himself.  Garak had a habit of talking himself around problems, until the only blame remaining was his own.  He would find some fault that made it seem natural, advisable for Parmak to deny him his company, let alone anything more personal.  It was only because he cared for Parmak, but this reasoning was harder to articulate; he had no desire to harm him, either.  

“In all the daily ways that matter, yes,” Parmak assured.

“What we are doing now matters a great deal to _me_ ,” Garak replied.  

The argument was performative, and Parmak had not deeply wounded him, but still he apologized and caressed Garak’s cheek.

“And to me, as well,” he said.  “I am going to find a way… I am going to _make_ us compatible.”

Garak did not expect this goal to be achieved instantaneously, but he was looking forward to more diligent progress.  And Parmak was the single most diligent individual he had ever known.  

“You are _positive_ you would not prefer me to roll over?” Garak confirmed.

“That will not help, and it will not be as comfortable for you,” Parmak insisted.  “Stay exactly as you are and… let me - you do _like_ the attention, don’t you? - let me finish undressing you.”

“My dear,” Garak said confidently, when Parmak’s hands were already twisting beneath his waistband, “you make me sound positively _scandalous_.”

At last, Parmak was led willingly into the debate.

“You _are_ .  What kind of Cardassian likes to be treated so… gently?  So _expectant_ of help, and of care?”

Without much assistance, Parmak tugged down Garak’s trousers.  Then he removed his own as an afterthought, and tried to reset himself in his position exactly.

“And you want to keep up all this indecent talk, as well, don’t you?” Parmak asked.  He would’ve preferred… well, not silence, but maybe just an exchange of instructions and endearments, and maybe that was the exact variety of indecency Garak would manage to provide him.

“That is my intention,” Garak said, grinning slyly.

He was trying to do Parmak a favor, to make them even, as ill-advised as it may have seemed from an outside perspective.  He wanted Parmak, in some visceral way, to _break_ him… to _hurt_ him, and to _make him talk_.

As ever, Parmak struggled to necessitate a double-meaning in anything.  It was all a bit jumbled in his mind, really.  How was it that Garak wanted to be cherished _and_ choked at the same time?  What common ground existed between sensual silence and tortured confession?  And why were they both so… traditionally contradictory, until they, yes, until they overturned even that?

“Would you like to know _my_ intention?” Parmak asked, settling his hands in the curve between Garak’s neck and shoulders.  

Without any further prompting, Garak nodded.

“It is to make love to you.”

Garak blinked at him, and was afraid he had been staring too long, when Parmak became still.  But he was only waiting for agreement, and Garak felt even more fortunate to know him, and even less deserving of his attention.

“Please do,” Garak said, more passionately this time.

Parmak reached down past his waist to take the next preparatory step, but he found he could not break off from Garak’s gaze.  It was certainly more customary for one’s eversion to be achieved in relative privacy - as of _course_ Cardassians considered recreational sex to be a shameful need, one to be completed quickly and not spoken of afterward - than for it to be done in front of an audience.  It placed a Cardassian at his most vulnerable, and that was not something their species accepted, let alone shared.

But Parmak had subscribed to that custom without question until now, as he found Garak _staring_ at him every time he glanced down to check on him, eyes wide and bright and unwavering.  Parmak let Garak break away this part of him, bit by bit.

“I don’t mean to be discourteous,” Garak said softly.  “It’s just that I have not been with another male in a very long time."

“I… believe I understand.  Here, keep your eyes on me.”

“Are you _sure_ ?” Garak was determined to show he _could_ be polite when he wanted to be.  

Parmak tossed his head to the side, amused.

“I _did_ provide you a pillow.”

Garak settled back on it, grinning, watching Parmak’s performance.  He moved his fingers nimbly - of course he did - and opened his slit _just_ wide enough to admit one.  Presumably, he stroked himself from within using the same dexterity, and soon his length revealed itself, sliding forth gradually.  Garak never turned away, and barely even blinked.  What a tempting sight it was!

“Will you, er, do that…” Garak became barely audible, “...for _me_?”

Parmak thought, by now, he should be through with being surprised by anything Garak did, let alone by _everything_.  He raised his brow ridges, leaned forward, and obliged.

“Of course I will, Elim,” he said reassuringly, not wanting Garak to come away from this feeling either ashamed or helpless.  Comfortable, Parmak thought, should’ve been right there in the middle.

He stroked down gently from Garak’s chuva, tracing the rim and then the seam of it, working his way carefully inside Garak’s slit, watching intently for even the slightest change in his expression, but none occurred.  Parmak continued this perhaps longer than necessary, making small circles until he could widen them without resistance, spreading Garak’s fluid and giving brief but satiating touches to the ridges that had begun to swell inside him.  Surely he didn’t need such thorough preparation, unless…?

“Ohhh,” Garak said, in a blinding combination of surprise and pleasure, one Parmak would find intoxicating if he did not need to be so careful _this time_ , “do you - ahhh - do you intend to finish… _inside_ me even though we haven’t a _hope_ of procreating?”

“Scandalous,” muttered Parmak again, “but yes, I do.”

Garak gave a shiver at _that_.  Old Cardassia would have considered such an act - even an admission of it - unforgivably shameful.  Proper conduct and service to the State was expected to extend to every room of the household, every moment of privacy, and indeed, to every possible action of the individuals therein.  

“My _dear_ Elim,” Parmak said fondly, “I would say you’re quite ready.  Would you agree?”

With a nod, and a thorough chewing of his lower lip, Garak agreed, urging Parmak to touch him.  Not to force him, but to _help_ him and care for him, stroking the ridge at the base of his sheath, encouraging him to evert.  

Parmak brought him out gradually, and _so_ softly, while Garak sighed in contentment.

“And you like it like _this_?” Parmak asked, dedicated to the concept of speaking throughout.  He and Garak had discussed preferences in the past, vaguely and briefly, but he remembered them well.

With a nod from Garak, Parmak knew he was proceeding correctly.  He pressed Garak’s cock down with one hand, so the head of it fit neatly into the arch his chuva.  

 _That isn’t such a wild fantasy_ , Parmak thought.  And his back was already arched, somewhat, from his age, and the frequency his profession required him to stoop down, so he could fulfill this request without any complication; he liked to lean low and breathe against Garak’s neck...

Then Parmak positioned himself to make his entrance, watching the patience diminish from Garak’s otherwise encouraging smile.  He could not resist a final jest:

“And on your back, you will stay on your back?”

“ _Yes_ , Kelas, _please_ will you--” he was cut off by a sharp gasp as Parmak gave up and pushed his way inside. “And, _oh_ , you will keep your eyes on mine?”

“Yes,” Parmak said back, breathily.

Garak’s slit was already slick with his own fluids, and Parmak met no resistance as he entered.  With his fingertips, still wet from his brief exploration, he rubbed Garak’s length up and down, pressing it repeatedly against the lip of his chuva as he worked to establish a rhythm.   

“ _And_ you want me to b--?” he began, pausing when Garak shuddered back:

“ _Bite_ , yes, if it’s no trouble,” but his tone left little room for disagreement.

“A-a moment, please, my dear.”

Garak was prepared to prod him further, but he found himself having a surprisingly - but not unsettlingly - difficult time connecting his thoughts to his voice.

The cause for this, of course, was Parmak giving his first full thrust, brushing against the base of Garak’s sheath, hidden deep inside him.  Garak surrendered to the sensation willingly, breathing with his mouth open and his tongue sometimes fumbling over his lip, deciding to speak only when Parmak required it.  He knew Parmak found the silence unsettling, if it continued for too long, but he also wanted Parmak to feel very much in control - something Cardassians always bought and sold with their speech.  And Garak was aware of this system, enough to set his own price.

Parmak steadied Garak with his other hand, gripping hard around his shoulder.  He tried pushing him down further into the mattress, then pulling him up as far as he could manage with the single point of contact.  Garak liked the second attempt much better, and eagerly offered his arms, wrapping them around Parmak’s waist and helping him reach deeper.

“I didn't… want to be too close for you, Elim…”

Garak could not shake his head, really - he was already tossing it from side to side - so instead he tried to wrap his legs around Parmak, as well.

“If you want, now, I can - if you hold _still_ , Elim - I can bite.”

That was enough for him to steady himself, as Parmak’s hand slithered down from his shoulder to hold him more firmly at the nape of his neck.  Satisfied with the newly-cleared expanse of scales, Parmak had his choice of sensitive places to play with along the side of Garak’s throat and shoulder.  Parmak nipped at several places on Garak’s arm, where he had been teasing the skin to increase its sensitivity.

He brought his teeth together much too gently, but Garak could not fault him for trying; he did not expect Parmak to go through with it at all.  They were certainly making progress, now.

“Close your--” Garak attempted.

“What, Elim?” he inhaled and drew himself out before replying, ensuring he was fully in control of himself, “My eyes, hand, teeth, _what_?”

“Mmhmm,” Garak nodded, closing his eyes and generally being no help at all. “ _Hand_.”

He did mean ‘teeth’ but Parmak provided more exciting options by choosing to prompt him.  

Parmak forced his way in again, now acutely aware of the way Garak’s inner ridges swelled tightly against him, and the way Garak’s slit stretched and wet itself to accommodate him, otherwise.  He wondered where the contradictions _stopped_ with this man.  Maybe they didn’t, until he was scraped completely raw, reduced to senseless babbling, clenching his eyes shut against his better judgement, raking his nails over Parmak’s back, and trembling on the outskirts of orgasm.

Once Parmak felt confident again, he fulfilled Garak’s request.  He closed his fingers in a light circle around Garak’s cock, lifting him gently from the indentation of his chuva, stroking him in time.

“Elim?”

Garak had closed his eyes without meaning to, and while Parmak certainly considered this complimentary, he could not understand Garak’s needs if he chose to cut off both his voice and his gaze.  Parmak released his hold on Garak’s cock, earning him a little whine, before stroking Garak’s cheek with the dry, outer side, his knuckles gently pressing into the base of Garak’s optical ridge.  

“I asked you to look at me, remember?”

“S-sorry,” Garak panted in reply.

“No, shh, you don’t need to apologize to me, my dear.  I didn’t mean _that_.  It is only so I know you’re alright.”

Garak let his head fall back, limp in Parmak’s grip, but was determined to keep his eyes open this time.  

“Can you… _oh_ …” Parmak managed, as Garak did this, “can you tell me what you need?”

At this precise moment, Garak gave up on being broken.  Even if it would do Parmak some good, he was… yes, he was too good already.  He wouldn’t take _enough_ advantage, he wouldn’t push hard _enough._ Garak found himself grateful, instead of disappointed.  It might be nice to be taken care of properly, instead of performatively.

“Yes, Kelas, I--” he breathed, lifting his head again and letting Parmak cup his hand against the back of it, “I will need your hand, again, if you might spare it.”

Parmak pressed his lips lightly to Garak’s cheek, set him back down on his pillow, and then returned his own grip as directed.   

Garak did appreciate the gesture, but now that he was resting safely on his back, he needed to move his hand down to guide Parmak’s.  It was not his fault for not knowing - even Garak didn’t know what he was aiming for - but he needed to try different angles to find his preference.

He settled back with Parmak’s hand closed completely over the head of his cock, providing indescribable friction as his thrusts shoved Garak into his palm again and again.

That, oh _that_ , was Garak’s price.  He could no longer keep himself quiet.

“And if you’ll just - oh, oh yes - _there_ , so I can feel you when… Kelas, I--”

“ _What_?” Parmak said, struggling to spare a breath.

Garak squirmed happily beneath him, rolling his hips and forcing himself more firmly into Parmak’s hand.  If he had sold himself instead of found himself broken… it could not be much longer now.

“Will you…?” Garak never found the composure to complete the thought.

Parmak needed to focus more intently on his expressions, on the way his breathing changed and he dug his teeth into his lips.  That would become a lecture and a bit of dermal regeneration, later, but now he found it… almost endearing?  Parmak watched this, flicking his gaze back and forth between Garak’s mouth and his eyes.  The silence was not so unbearable, Parmak decided, as it was peppered with little gasps and intermittent moans from his partner.

He kept up his thrusting at a steady speed, marveling as he felt Garak swelling all around him.  Somehow, he had expected the man to last a little bit longer, but maybe after so many years without this level of intimacy… and with their entire association counting as foreplay, in itself…

 _Wait_ , Parmak thought to himself, _all of it?_

 _Yes_.

From the very first _moment_ Garak met his gaze, he had been making a similar plea.  Cooperation and his own safety was all Garak wanted then, even if the price had been different, and it was certainly all he wanted now.

Parmak watched Garak’s eyes glowing back at him, beneath the weight of unshed tears, and he felt the same.  Maybe there was a curse to be made of the nature of Cardassian memory, but he felt _exactly_ the same in this moment as he did in the interrogation room.  He _was_ in control of the situation all those years ago, but now he was able to realize that power instead of deny it.

Regardless, he could feel his resolve cracking and splitting, letting Garak’s influence seep through.  He met Garak’s gaze with ease, unblinking, and then he came, silently.

It was gradual, almost gentle, and he would not have noticed if all the fluid had not suddenly forced him out of Garak’s slit entirely.  He knew there would be a mess for him to look down at, for him to tend to as soon as possible, but he still could not take himself away from Garak’s _eyes_.

Until Garak closed them, worried he might have hurt Parmak after all, based on the gentility of his orgasm, if nothing else.  Cardassians were not generally such a subdued people.

“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong--?” Garak began, already shifting himself out from underneath Parmak, even though he had very carefully maintained the distance between them.

“No, no, shh, you were wonderful.  Let me…”

He pumped Garak’s length more insistently now, leaning in to nibble the hollow of Garak’s throat, sucking the loosened skin rather than biting it.  

“Oh, that’s n-nice,” stammered Garak, refusing to break off his gaze.

It felt… a little strange - the fact they were staring at each other every chance they got - but genuinely nice, too.  Parmak eventually pulled back his head, shut his mouth, and focused more diligently on Garak’s arousal.  His throat had been left wet and purple, and Parmak told himself to be satisfied with that.

“Just like this, Elim,” Parmak was not asking a question, but Garak answered anyway.

“Please, Kelas.  M… _Make_ me.”

Parmak swallowed hard and forced himself to tighten his fingers, spiraling them as he moved up and down, clicking his nails into place against the solitary ridge that ran down the underside of Garak’s cock.

When Garak came against Parmak’s hand, spilling between his fingers, Garak apologized again.

“No, no--” Parmak began again, and this was enough for Garak to calm himself.

They settled beside each other on the mattress, stroking arms and scales and ridges and forgetting their prescribed distance completely.  Garak did not care, either.

“That was not what either of us wanted,” Garak said, after a comfortable silence had passed and threatened to become awkward.

Parmak brushed Garak’s cheek with the back of his hand once more, and Garak nuzzled him closer.  It was, by their native standards, appalling.  Parmak adored and encouraged it.

“I suppose not,” he admitted in a measured voice.  “But what we needed, certainly.”

“And those are contradictory?” Garak led.

“Not as far as you’re concerned, Elim.”

Garak stayed quiet after this, occupied with the thought.  But not to the point of thinking obsessively about it until it unraveled, no, merely of holding it steady in the forefront of his mind.  He let Parmak clean him up, even holding a regenerator over his lip when he had finished with the cloth on his belly, in content silence.

“I expect we will only get better,” Parmak felt the need to reassure him again, now that the ordeal was objectively through, and some small bit of progress had been achieved.  Of course there was more to be found, but not tonight.

Garak was not sure they _could_ get better, and he was not sure he wanted them to.

“Yes,” he said for Parmak’s benefit, burrowing into his shoulder and breathing warmly against his neck, “I expect we will.”  



End file.
